


Vicente's Demon

by LiterallyFRIST



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Multi, Pictures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:52:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2036193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiterallyFRIST/pseuds/LiterallyFRIST
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A contract made on an enigmatic Breton noblewoman is proving to be one of the most difficult ordeals Vicente has ever had to deal with. Hounded by the initiate, Antoinetta, he faces a greater challenge to his expertise than trying to get his companion to leave him alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vicente's Demon

**A/N:** Long story short, _Vicente's Demon_ was a fanfic I originally uploaded to fanfiction.net about a year ago. When I heard about this site, I became interested in updating the fic to join the Archive because I heard that I can post pictures for my fanfics here. Yay! So now I've rehauled the entire fic and added illustrations using a mix of Sims 3 and Oblivion. Oh God.

* * *

 **Prolo gue** 

* * *

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows over the yellowed pages of paper scattered across the rich, dark surface of Ocheeva's desk, where she had been working since the early morning. Her business was of organizing the paperwork of contracts done in ages past, forgotten and forlorn by all save for her. This was her duty as the Sanctuary's archivist, one that her predecessor had failed to do. She was the only person Vicente had met in the three hundred years of his life who would have a spark in her eye by the mere mention of organization and long hours of doing just that. He had lost count of how long he’d been watching the scaly creature gracefully bend her lithe, serpentine body over the piles of densely-written documents, humming a little tune as she sorted them into neat stacks around her on her desk or on the floor. He loved how the light bounced most captivatingly off of what was visible of her vibrant scales, jealously hidden by the dense fabric of a standard issue, long-sleeved Dark Brotherhood uniform. Hers in particular seemed to hug the curvature of her body rather nicely. The multicolor feathers that she was so fond of wearing nestled amongst the horns on her hairless scalp were gone at the moment, as she was wont to remove such frillery whenever she was seriously into something. The vampire admired her dedication to her work, which was another reason — besides the way she looked at him as he entered her office — why the Argonian was one of his favorite guildmates.

He must've misinterpreted the look she gave him, because she certainly didn't sound like she was glad to see him. "She lives," the Argonian said, her voice just as coarse as her skin.

It took a few moments for her words to reel the vampire out of the trance he had fallen into while gracing her visage, and even then he did not immediately understand what she meant, despite being renown for his quickness. "What do you mean?" he asked, scratching his dark brown hair that was banded in a low-hanging tail just above the nape of his neck. 

"Lady Selene still walks the streets of Leyawiin." The name she spoke of was strangely familiar to him, but he could not put a finger on the identity of the person it belonged to. Ocheeva glared through bloodshot slit eyes that expressed her dissatisfaction clearly. "The Breton noblewoman whose death was requested to us two weeks ago. She was the target of the last contract you've been chosen to carry out. You've failed to kill her."

Now the memory of that contract flooded back to him. He remembered being given the contract due to his own recent inactivity, but he couldn't help himself to be bothered about taking what he considered to be a fool's task. So he used his higher position within the guild to enlist the services of an initiate to do the contract for him. What wrong had he done Sithis so that his trusted aid failed? "That cannot be," the vampire denied, standing up as if it would make his defense any more valid. "I made sure I... I sent our best assassin there. What of him?" 

Angrily, the Argonian rose from her seat to match the height of her visitor. "You sent an initiate." If Argonians had eyebrows, hers would be furrowing furiously. Vicente nodded sheepishly in admission, even blushing in shame a little. Ocheeva resigned to a sigh and calmed herself down by taking back her seat behind the desk. "Reported missing, perhaps dead. My informants in the city told me that he was clever enough to entering through an open window, but they haven't said anything about Selene's death, nor having seen him leave the premises of her residence."

Vicente's held his mouth agape as astonishment conquered him. The green boy he sent may not have been the most experienced among their ranks, but that he failed at killing a defenseless, unguarded highborn damsel such as Lady Selene was simply appalling. "I shall have to take a stab at Selene myself,” he declared confidently, intent on repairing his shattered pride.

"You would be wise to do it, and soon. It was King Gothryd of Daggerfall himself who prayed to the Night Mother for Selene’s death," she reminded him, her expression grim and dour, but only to a mask the true fear beneath. "His armies have enough might to march on through the Empire and slaughter her themselves, did you know that? The only thing keeping him from ordering his soldiers to do so is the delicate matters of High Rock's limited military access through Hammerfell. Pressed enough, Gothryd may choose to ignore that fact, and he'll enrage the Redguards. War might spark in the midst of the Empire. You know what that means for us." Her fear of the Black Hand's wrath was well-justified. Only the higherups of the Brotherhood would truly take the brunt of the consequences, and they'd want to make sure their lowers would share in their shame. A rarely seen side to the usually coolheaded Argonian was showing: one of despair from the thought of excruciating punishment, which even she, the head of their chapter of the Dark Brotherhood, would not be spared from. He could only imagine what the Black Hand had in store for the one who failed the contract out of his own laziness.

"Royal bastards are always so impatient, are they?" Vicente chuckled at his own attempt to lighten up the gloom, to no response from his Dark Sister. Ocheeva wouldn’t likely be amused anyway, even if she didn't have to bear the stress caused by the tangent ordeal. "Fine,” he said. “I will go to Leyawiin myself and present Lady Selene as a fine sacrifice for Sithis."

Having returned to her desk, Ocheeva did not take her eyes off the paperwork a second time as she waved a dismissive hand and said, "Go, your time is short."

Vicente turned and was about to take his leave, but not before looking back to give his last wink to the Argonian hiding herself behind mountains of yellowed paper.

Out in the hallway, the air was significantly less heavy on his chest. He wasn't sure if it was the tension fading, or because there just weren't mountains of damp, moldy paper flanking the walls and covering the floor like rushes. However, the public spaces of the Sanctuary was also where he was so frequently accosted by those he would rather not come across.

"Vicente, Vicente!" Too late. 

"You're leaving for Leyawiin on the morrow?" asked the young Antoinetta Marie, whose shrill voice was unmistakable, whose interest in him was of unnerving depth as always, and whose large blue eyes were inquisitive, invasive, and all over him as he struggled in vain to keep himself away from her.

"Yes, quite indeed," he answered brusquely. "A target of the Brotherhood there was not successfully eliminated by your fellow initiate, so I will have to do the killing myself." He didn't want to explain the details of his mission to her, knowing how loose her tongue was fond of flapping, but he did so in the desperate hope that it would sate her curiosity and turn her away.

But on the contrary, it set the girl's eyes alight with something he did not like. "Not necessarily..." she beamed, and with a swift move, she wrapped Vicente's arm around herself, to the surprise of an audience of the Dark Brothers and Sisters who were previously minding their own matters. "We could work together!" she batted her lashes, and if she were to say that any louder, the people up above on the streets could've heard her.

The girl may as well have broken an unspoken tenet of the Dark Brotherhood, which would've costed her an earful from Ocheeva at the very least, but it was a shame their Argonian superior was busy by herself. "Our Dark Brothers and Sisters work alone," he reminded her, retracting his hold over her. "No fraternizing."

The little thing looked so pitiful as she frowned, her heart-shaped face looking like a broken heart with a tendril of golden hair falling down her forehead like it was consumed by its own sadness. Her eyes were turning glassy, her cheeks were reddening, and then she had nothing to do but cry. "I was only thinking of you," she wept, choking back tears. 

With her audible wailing echoing throughout the subterranean halls of their hideout, it was inevitable that everyone's eyes were soon fixed to their figures, and Vicente felt especially humiliated as he stood awkwardly beside a girl reduced to tears by what appeared to be his own doing. He tried to soothe Marie but she only cried louder, muttering things like: "I just wanted to help! I know it's against the rules but couldn't you have told me you appreciate the thought? I thought you cared about me, Vicente! Please, don't leave me!" The girl fell to her knees and sprawled herself across Vicente's feet, rubbing her wet face on them. Whispered rumors passed around the spectators, “What’s wrong with Antoinetta? Why is she crying? What did Vicente do to her?” At that moment, he felt physically ill as embarassment washed over him, and he wanted nothing more than to get out of there — fast. Quickly he waddled toward the Black Door, single-minded in his endeavor, ignoring the Breton girl desperately clinging to his ankle. "Don’t leave me!" she pleaded, but she had lost her grip entirely when Vicente slammed the Black Door on her wrists.

The red welts on her hand soon turned into black and blue bruises that caused her much pain. Antoinetta had no prior thought that Vicente was so heartless to do her harm... and then leave her as she wallowed there in agony. She would still not have given a care in the world as people surrounded her and tried to offer her support, because she lamented nothing but the harsh reality that Vicente _may not_ even like her all that much, and that was enough to make her start tearing out her hair by the handfuls.

Recognizing the pitiful thing bawling her eyes out at the Black Door to be Antoinetta, Ocheeva's brother went and soothed her — or at least, tried to. "Fret nothing, Marie," Teinaava consoled the teary mess, taking caution not to touch her, fearing what she was capable of should she lash back. "You'll be seeing him again in no time soon."

When she turned her bloodshot eyes toward him, Teinaava held nothing in his heart but regret. "I want to be with him, damn the Night Mother! I want to reap the souls that Sithis hungers by his side! I want to feel the blood spray over my face as he does!" she shrieked, grabbing the unprepared Argonian by his shoulders. Her ferocity had now eclipsed that of Ocheeva’s the day M’raaj-Dar relieved himself on her assorted registries — and Teinaava, captive, could only stare as the volatile emotions on her face contorted to that of pure madness. "Do you not understand, you filthy lizard? I WANT VICENTE!" Traumatized, Teinaava crumpled onto the cold floor a teary mess himself as Antoinetta let go of him and marched off to her chamber, leaving anyone who had seen what transpired that night in intimidated silence.

No-one dared to knock upon the locked door as she continued to weep away the sorrows of the night, despite the fact that it was not her room she had caged herself in.

* * *

**Prolo gue**

* * *

 

**A/N:** So, there it is. I plan to have 5 pictures per chapter, which is the only reason why this prologue seems to be missing at least one more shot near the end. Oh well.


End file.
